


The Talk

by seashadows



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Naked Cuddling, Oral Sex, Sex Talk, mild implications of Bagginshield, none of the Dwarves have any boundaries whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6480661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seashadows/pseuds/seashadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started while they were still journeying, because no one told Kíli anything. </p><p>Or: the Dwarves of Thorin's Company give surprisingly good advice in matters of the bedroom, but that doesn't mean Kíli has to like hearing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talk

It all started while they were still journeying, because no one told Kíli anything, and he’d slowly come to realize that if he was to be the heir presumptive to one of the greatest kingdoms on Arda, he needed to know how to act like one. Including what to do with a future princess. 

“Uncle,” he said while he and Uncle Thorin were digging a latrine about a week out from the Hobbit joining them, “what’s it going to be like when I’m a prince? Mam’s not told me much about it.” 

Uncle Thorin put down his shovel. “I suppose it’s time you knew,” he said. Kíli’s heart thumped, but then it sank when Uncle began to tell him what it was like for _him_ as a prince. Events of state, learning Khuzdul both ancient and modern, supervising everything from the repair of the ramparts to the kitchens to make sure no one was hurt or poisoned, but nothing about lasses. Kíli listened, smiled, and nodded, and when the speech was finished, gave it up as a bad job. 

“Mister Balin,” he said the next day, riding up beside Balin’s pony, “what’s it going to be like when I’m a prince? When I have to marry and all?” 

“Hmm,” said Balin, and stroked his beard with one hand, pulling a bit on the reins with the other. Obligingly, his pony slowed down. “Do you mean the choice of your spouse?” 

Kíli nodded. “Aye,” he said, “lasses. I don’t know anything about what to do with them.” 

“Are you asking about lasses?” Fíli shouted from farther up in the procession. “They’re lovely! I kissed Aldís back in Ered Luin before we left.” 

Fíli actually got a Dwarrowdam to like him? Maybe there was hope for Kíli after all. “Where did you kiss her?” Kíli asked. “Did you have to ask her parents’ permission?” 

“Behind her ‘Amad’s food stall,” Fíli called back. “Vanís always sells bad milk and mealy apples, but Aldís is all right. She grabbed my braids and kissed…oh. I think I _got_ kissed instead of kissing.” His face fell into a pout. “Does that mean I haven’t kissed anyone myself yet?” 

Dwalin always rode up at the head of their caravan, just behind Uncle, and now he galloped ahead to smack Uncle’s back. “Have ye not told these lads anything?” he said. “They don’t know nowt of what to do with a Dwarrowdam! That’s neglected responsibilities, that is.” 

Uncle didn’t return the smack like Dwalin deserved, but he did grunt. “They’ve not told me if they care for dams,” he said. “Am I their uncle or their –“ 

“Most do,” Dwalin cut in. “You’ve got t’stop assuming that everyone’s like you. Both, all, that’s commonest.” 

“What I like or dislike,” Uncle growled, “is none of your concern, _Dwalin_. Speak to my nephews if you must, but leave me out of it.” 

Dwalin shrugged. “Fine, fine,” he said. “Least ye tell me when I’m out of line. That’s a mercy. Fíli, Kíli!” He pulled on his pony’s reins and rode down to their section of the procession; around them, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur shifted to make room. “What _do_ ye know of marriage?” 

“It’s a sacred thing,” said Kíli, before Fíli could butt in and steal his glory. “When a Dwarf finds their One, they must marry if they can. Mam and Da were, and Mam wasn’t the same after Da passed.” ‘Passed’ wasn’t a terribly good word for the truth of ‘Orc attack’, but it kept the grimaces off people’s faces. “One of us will need to marry a lass if we want heirs for Erebor, and it’ll be best if we’re each other’s Ones.” 

“That’s right,” Dwalin said, “but what d’ye know of _bedding_? Most people want it, and it’ll have to be done for heirs, at least.” 

Fíli actually blushed at that. What was wrong with him? Bedding was just bedding, like anything else, only one had to be naked and Kíli knew damn well that the parts you weren’t supposed to look at on someone else without permission were involved; the sheep and goats sometimes bedded, and everyone in Ered Luin had seen how they did that. There was the hammer and there was the forge, and there had to be one of each for children to come of it. 

“We’ve seen the animals,” Kíli volunteered. “There’s got to be a hammer in a forge for wee ones. Same for animals as for Dwarflings.” 

“That’s right as well,” said Dwalin with a nod. “But ye know we Dwarves have often got to wait for children, if any come at all. It’s a sad thing. And there are more things to do in bed than just hammers in forges. There’s play to be done, and it’s not optional for a happy time. You’ve got t’ be considerate.” 

“Considerate?” Fíli said. “What do you mean?” 

Now Dwalin’s cheeks actually went red. “There’s play and there’s play,” he said. “It’s different for everyone in their bed. S’pose I can tell ye the basics.” 

“And we’ll help!” said Bofur. “Else poor Dwalin might explode in the tellin’.” A murmur of agreement came from Oin and Glóin both, though the hiss from behind them had to be from Dori. Well, he never talked about anything intimate, even how to clean the sweat Bombur got in his skin folds (and they all _knew_ he had the herbs for it, the bastard). 

Dwalin sighed. “If ye must,” he said, but he sounded more grateful than angry. “All right, then. Tell the lads what’s what.” 

“ _Most Dwarrowdams have a forge_ ,” said Bifur, with the air of someone settling in for a long and pleasant story, “ _and it is a lovely thing indeed. Hot as fire, wet as steam, and the gem above it begs for a tongue or a set of fingers on it._ ” 

“What my cousin _means_ ,” said Bofur, leaning over and giving Bifur’s shoulder a pinch, “is that a forge has two sets of lips, one great, one small. The small are inside the great, and up at the top, near the belly, they come together to make a wee – OW!” He rubbed his own shoulder. “Bif! Stop bein’ violent!” 

“ _Speak of the forge with respect_ ,” said Bifur. “ _Those inner lips you speak of so callously are slick and sweet, and at the top of the forge, they peak to form a pink gem in its hood. Some are large, some small, but all of them love attention, just as a hammer does._ ” 

Glóin hummed. “Bifur’s got the right of it,” he said. “Sima loves m’mouth or m’hands. Sometimes she wants it tender, sometimes rough. When she plays with my prick and stones…” He sighed happily. “Hands, mouth, or forge, it feels wonderful.” 

Under his fringe, Kíli sneaked a look at Fíli, only to find that his brother looked as uncomfortable as he himself felt. With his face burning, he shifted his gaze back to the pommel of his saddle, where his hips had begun to press themselves of their own accord as the older Dwarves talked. If only he could find a quiet place to put his hands in his trousers and think about dams’ bosoms or Dwarves with their shirts off and bulges beneath their belts. Either would be fine, just to end this discomfort. “What do you…do then?” 

“Mm,” said Bombur, “well, that’s up to you and your partner. Hrona…mmm…” He cleared his throat. “She likes my mouth. What ye might do is flick the gem a few times with yer tongue, and then go and part the inner lips with it. There’s the small hole where she pisses, and that, ye leave alone. But beneath that is the forge, an’ Hrona likes fingers.” 

“Is it…” Kíli’s voice came out in a squeak. “Is it all right that you’re talking about your wives?” 

Glóin and Bombur exchanged a look and immediately started laughing. “I know Hrona talks about me at market!” Bombur chortled. “It’s not a problem at all. That’s how we got some of our tips.” He winked. “Share and share alike.” 

“Fingers are good,” said Nori. “Toys are good. Nose is good. Long as there’s something you can use to make ‘em feel good. I like some toys, myself.” 

“ _Nori!_ ” 

“Oh, shut your big fat gob, Dori,” Nori told his brother. “It’s time they learned, and Ori, too. You been keepin’ ‘im sheltered too long.” 

Kíli’s neck and chest flushed with heat, and he was sure that if he took off his shirts, he’d be red all the way down to his belly and below. “It’s not necessary,” he said, and then, thank Mahal, he saw a reprieve. “Thank you – wh-what about Mister Boggins? I bet Hobbits are a bit, uh, different.” 

“ _Baggins!_ ” said Bilbo indignantly. “It’s not any of your business what constitutes a tumble for Hobbits. We’ve got our fun and no need to talk about it with Dwarves.” 

“Oh, fair’s fair,” said Bofur. Kíli watched him rein up beside Bilbo and lean over to put a companionable arm around his shoulders, which resulted in the two of them nearly falling off their ponies. “You’ll tell us summat sometime, I know it.” 

“Now,” said Glóin loudly, probably eager to divert the conversation back to all the things he did with his wife, “far as I know, lots of dams like your mouth best. I’ve got to use my tongue, and I like it right well. Small circles, lads, that’s the way, right on her gem if she’s got one. Maybe she’ll ask ye to put your tongue in her forge as well. They like mouths on their nipples, too. Like it well.” He smiled a secretive smile. “I like it on mine, too.” 

He knew Uncle Thorin wouldn’t see him, since he was turned away, but Kíli looked up at the front of the procession anyway. _Please, Uncle, put a stop to this!_ Any more and he’d make a mess in his trousers; that would get him laughed at even more than not knowing what to do with a lass in bed had. 

“ _There are things to do with a hammer as well_ ,” Bifur said. “ _You should know about that if you like them. First, see that there are no pustules -_ ” 

“We’ll be stopping to eat now,” Uncle suddenly said. _Oh, thank Durin and Mahal and everyone else._ “Dori, Bombur, do you need help in finding anything to eat?” 

“No, I know the kinds of berries on the bramble bushes here,” said Bombur. “I’ll take Master Baggins with me, if he’ll be so kind. Hobbits are good at that sort of thing, aren’t they?” 

Bilbo agreed a bit too quickly for his response to come from a simple desire to help Bombur. As the ponies halted and Kíli nearly leapt off his to go find the nearest secluded tree, he heard their burglar say hesitantly, “Er, Thorin? I…this is only from curiosity, and please do tell me if I’m being rude, but what exactly did Dwalin mean by ‘not everyone is like you’?”

_

“Take off your clothes,” said Tauriel in a voice husky from kissing, “please.”

Jelly-legged, Kíli staggered away from his bed – and the Elf-lass lying on it, her feet almost hanging off the end – to take off his tunic, shirt, and heavy trousers with shaking hands. The trousers did wonders to hide his stand, but with it pressing against Tauriel’s leg all through their kisses, she obviously knew that it was there and didn’t mind. “Do you like it?” he asked when he’d removed enough to stand there in his smalls. The cold of his room was making his skin go all goose-pimpled. “Me, I mean. Naked. Sorry, I should be naked.” He wiggled out of his smallpants and undershirt, which kept his heavy linen shirt from scraping his chest raw, and saw as he did that his nipples were hard as stone. 

“Yes, oh, yes,” she said, and in a blink, had her tunic and leggings off - _oh_ , she was wearing nothing beneath them! _Isn’t she cold?_ ran through Kíli’s mind, but other parts of his mind were more occupied in looking at her beautiful long body. He’d liked to look at dams and Mannish lasses with strong, round figures before; this shape fit Tauriel, though, and he couldn’t imagine her any other way. He didn’t want to, either. “Do you like _me_ naked?” she asked. Her deep pink nipples tightened as he watched, as if just the thought of him liking the way she looked was making her roused. _Wet_ , he thought, and growled when he realized that the thought was in Glóin’s voice. 

Kíli nodded hard. “Y-yes. Good. Beautiful! Um…” He looked up and down from her beautiful delicate face to her bare, hairless feet, and his eyes stopped at the thick triangle of red hair halfway in between. He’d never thought Elves would have any hair on their bodies. “Can we…what do you want?” 

“You,” Tauriel said, just as she had earlier when she came with him on a walk that ended at his bedchamber, just as she had after that when she told him that should they continue, they would be married in the Elvish tradition. Just as she had with tears in both her eyes and her voice when he asked her, as his One, to marry him in the Dwarvish fashion as well. 

He breathed in deeply through his nose and let it out through his mouth so he wouldn’t make an ass of himself by fainting. “Could I kiss you other places?” he asked, and then cursed himself. What if Elves didn’t talk about these things like Dwarves did? What if she didn’t know what to do or how to feel good? “They, uh, they told me when a lass’s forge is wet, she likes to be kissed –“ 

Tauriel cut him off with a laugh. “I know how it’s done,” she said. “I have fingers of my own, and ears to hear.” She wiggled them, long and thin as they were. Kíli’s eyes closed and he felt his prick twitch at the thought of her lying down with her hands between her legs, maybe even thinking about him while she touched herself. “I think I would like kisses in other places.” 

So he came back and kissed her again, first on her mouth; soft lips turned firm and eager, first from her and then from him, as the kiss deepened and his hand roamed restlessly over her neck and belly and breasts. When his palm ran across each of her nipples in turn, she gasped into his mouth; his own nipples seemed to throb and his cock twitched in need. She made such wonderful sounds. “Can I touch?” he asked. The whisper sounded so loud in the silent room. 

“Mmm, _yes!_ ” 

Kíli broke their kiss and lay beside her, taking a small, smooth breast in each hand. Tauriel smiled, and he first rubbed his beard across the skin of her closest breast, then fastened his mouth onto a nipple. It made him feel strange, like he was a babe suckling Mam in the years he couldn’t remember, but her noises drove all thoughts of Mam out of his head; he hummed happily in return, and she gasped, grabbing his head. 

“Yes!” she cried. “More, please – harder. T-teeth.” 

He let go of her nipple. “ _Teeth?_ Won’t that hurt you?” 

“The pressure,” Tauriel said. “I think…I want it.” 

Pressure, all right. A lass wanted what she wanted. Kíli went back in with lips and teeth, sucking at her nipple until she hissed and pulled his hair. Then he moved on to the other to make it first hard and wet, then red and wrinkled when he pulled away to look at his handiwork. Making love to Tauriel could be his craft, just after fletching and shooting, and he knew he’d be just as proud of it. “Are you very wet?” he asked after he’d pleasured her a while. 

“Oh, _very_ ,” she said, breathing heavily between words. “Please touch me.” 

Kíli’s heart pounded and his cock jumped at the same time. Now he needed to be extra careful to make her feel good, and to feel her own peak, which Bombur had taken him aside and told him about after he came back from peaking by the tree that day. _When you’ve done it right, she’ll shake an’ go tight, and then -_ Bombur needed to get out of his head! He shook it, sighed, and laid his head between Tauriel’s breasts. 

She stroked his hair. “Is everything all right?” 

“Mm,” he said. “The others told me about how to please a lass on our journey. I can’t stop hearing their voices.” 

Tauriel laughed, a soft vibration against his cheek. “I’ll try to tell you what I like,” she said. “Don’t worry. You’ve already…” She took his hand and brought it down past her smooth-skinned belly to the rough, wiry hair between her legs. “Touch me here.” 

He found the seam of her great lips with a shaking finger, parted them, and immediately swore in Khuzdul. She was so wet that he was nearly slipping in it. He gulped, breathed through his mouth, and asked, “Where’s your…your gem?” 

“My – oh.” She guided his hand again, finger extended, to a bit of flesh where her smaller, slicker lips met. It almost felt like a fingertip, whorled in round patterns, only smaller than any fingertip of his. “ _Mmmm_ ,” Tauriel moaned as he stroked it curiously. “There. Down…downward, not up. Down and around.” 

Kíli lay his head on her belly and rubbed her in circles, big and small, adjusting his touch to the noises she made. “I think I can smell you,” he said. “Is that you?” The smell was sharp and musky, nothing like the smells he’d observed in his spend or the clear stuff he made before he peaked. It was sweeter. 

“Me?” Her words came out breathy. “I think – yes, that’s me.” 

“Oh. Can I taste you, then?” They’d said lasses liked that, and right now, he wanted nothing more than to bury his face between her legs. 

“ _Yes_.” 

Her yes went straight to his cock; he scrambled away and brought his face between her spread legs. Oh. _Oh_ , she smelled even better from here, and she shone in the lamplight. His eyes followed a drop of wetness that slid from between her small lips and pooled on one pale inner thigh, and he ground his hammer against the mattress with a groan. “Smells so good,” he said, and parted her again with his tongue and nose - _nose is fine_ , shut up, Nori! – then found her gem again and began to lick in tiny, tight circles. 

Her thighs spread wider, so he nudged his nose against her gem and licked her up and down from gem to forge, where she was slickest and hottest. That made her let out lovely sounds, too, but not as much as when he’d licked and sucked her above. _I’ll try to tell you what I like_ , she’d said. He returned his mouth to where it had been and rubbed the entrance to her forge for a while with a wet thumb instead. 

“ _Kíli!_ ” She pulled on his hair again. “Kíli, Kíli, Kíli-Kíli-Kíli keep going, keep, oh, _meleth_ …” 

Kíli smacked his sore lips together and wet them some more with his tongue. He couldn’t stop his hips from moving against his bed, and with every thrust, he moaned. Sticking out his tongue again, he caressed her all over with it, up, down, side to side, focusing most of all on that tiny, hard bit that was going to make her – 

Tauriel cried out louder than he’d ever heard her do before, and suddenly, she began to shudder against his face. Her hips moved in short, quick jerks and her gem twitched madly beneath his tongue, and before he knew what was happening, she was flooding his face and beard with her wetness and fragrance and she was peaking, he knew she was peaking, it was so…he couldn’t bear it. 

He muffled his own cry against her and, in horror, felt his pleasure swell within him and spend out onto the sheets. The waves of it made him shiver and he licked her helplessly as he came down. If she’d wanted to touch him, he’d gone and ruined it, and been rude into the bargain. “Tauriel,” he mumbled. “Are you all right, Tauriel?” 

She pulled him up with surprising strength and lavished kisses all over his face, though it was wet and his beard felt sticky, too. “By all the Valar,” she whispered. “Did you…?” 

Kíli nodded. “Is that all right?” 

Tauriel drew him closer and nodded against his neck, smooth hair against rough stubble. It felt wonderful. “You’re young,” she said. Unlike when other Elves said it, her words sounded like a compliment. “Will you be ready again soon?” 

“Aye, I think so,” he said. His cock wasn’t fully interested again yet, but it was definitely twitching. He touched it and moaned at the sensitivity, not pleasure and not pain. “Soon. Did you like your peak?” 

She pulled him into a deep kiss, winding her arms around him. “More than anything, Kíli.” 

So they’d been right. Kíli smiled against her skin. Yes, they’d been right, but that was one secret he wouldn’t tell them for all the gold in Erebor, Dale, and Mirkwood combined with a cartload of food from the Shire on top.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Meleth_ : "[my] love," Sindarin.
> 
> I can be found at godihatethisfreakingcat on Tumblr, and I absolutely love and cherish any and all feedback.


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